Behind Her Emerald Eyes
by sarcasm.is.me.17
Summary: Arya's life through her eyes. Begins in Du Weldenvarden when she was born. Ends when ... I'm not sure yet. Arya/Faolin and later on Arya/Eragon. Please R & R!
1. Prologue: Shaping Her Destiny

**A/N: ooo. another story... Well, this is the prologue so it won't be in Arya's POV. Please review after you're done reading...**

**Here goes:**

**Prologue: Shaping Her Destiny  
**

Evandar smiled as he gazed upon the baby in Islanzadi's arms. She looked exactly like her mother, her skin was pale and it seemed to emit a faint glow, she had dark hair, the same nose and mouthas her mother. Everything except her eyes, which were a deep shade of emerald, just like his.

"Arya," he whispered, touching his daughter's brow. "Arya Drottningu." The name fitted her. He closed his eyes, thinking of a blessing fit for his only child.

"May you fulfill you fate as princess of Ellesmera," he said, allowing his strength to be sapped in order to shape her future.

"May you find a consolation in every hardship you endure," whispered Islanzadi. "And may you find love when you need it the most."

She lay Arya down in a cot beside her bed. She watched as Arya's eyelids fluttered and closed. A comfortable silence fell on the occupants of the room, the only sound was Arya's steady breathing.

_My daughter, the heir to the knotted throne, _she sighed. She absentmindedly stroked Arya's cheek, feeling its softness. Evandar put an arm around her shoulders.

_I wonder what she'll be like when she grows up._

**A/N: How was it? I know it's a little short but the chapters will get longer in a while. Please review! any suggestions or comments are welcome! **


	2. Chapter 1: Ignorance Is Bliss

**OK, here's the first chapter. A bit of useless banter at the start but towards the end, it gets kinda serious .**

**Chapter 1 : Ignorance Is Bliss  
**

The musical laughter of the young princess filled the air. Arya ran across the field with inhuman speed. Behind her ran an elf with silver hair. He was twenty-three, twenty years older than her.

Arya stopped abruptly, causing the elf behind her to nearly crash into her. She lay on the grass, panting and out of breath. The elf sat beside her. After a moment's hesitation, he lay down beside her small body.

She tore her gaze away from the sky to survey the elf beside her. "I wish I had silver hair like yours," she said. Her voice was so serious, it sounded like it was her only worry – which to her, it was.

He smiled, when others had bigger worries, such as the fall of the Riders, Arya made it seem like everything was alright. He disagreed with the Queen's decision to keep her in the dark about the Riders' situation, but there was nothing he could do. He could not bring himself to disobey the Queen's orders.

"I think black suits you," he told her softly.

"But black is such a boring colour, even humans have black hair," she complained.

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it," he pointed out.

She looked at him, her eyebrows meeting in a frown. He could tell that she was thinking hard. "Can't you use your magic and turn in silver?" she asked.

"Now, why would I do that?" he asked. "Your mother will probably kill me when she found out."

Arya sighed, realizing that she couldn't win. "When can I learn magic?" she asked. "All I learn now is history and geography. I want to learn to use magic and fight with swords!"

"Patience, Arya Drottningu. The time for all this will come in time."

She frowned in irritation. "Stop calling me drottningu. It's annoying," she mumbled.

He smiled. "I will always call you Arya Drottningu, no matter how many times you ask me not to."

She sighed. "You're my best friend, you know that Faolin?"

Faolin disguised his surprise at her statement. It meant a lot to him. "You're my best friend too," he answered.

Smiling, she got up and started running again. Faolin sighed internally; _She can be really hyper sometimes._ He thought as he, too started running.

She stopped right in front of Tialdari Hall. He caught hold of her and started tickling her.

"Gotcha," he said triumphantly. Then, he realized that she was not laughing like she usually did. He let go of her and observed her body language. She was stiff and her shoulders were tensed. Her eyes showed worry and sadness.

Standing before her was King Evandar. Faolin quickly muttered the traditional greetings. He wondered why the sight of her father had caused Arya to react in that way. He turned his gaze to the king and found out why.

The king was clad in armour of the finest make. A graceful sword and its sheath were tied to his belt. He carried an unstrung bow and arrows. In his hand was a helm. The king was ready for war.

"Why father?" asked Arya quietly, her voice was full of anguish.

"There are many things we tried to hide from you, but now you must find out. The Riders have fallen, betrayed by one of their own, Galbatorix. He was helped by thirteen other Riders, the wrydfell. We have just received news that Vrael is slain and that Galbatorix intends to make himself king of Alagaesia in Illeria.

"The humans are in turmoil, the Riders have fallen and I doubt that the dwarves have heard of this. It is us, the elves who must try to thwart this evil and madness."

Arya looked down, her eyes sparkling with tears. She knew that even the elves did not dids not stand much of a chance against fourteen Riders. "Then I wish you luck, father. May the stars watch over you," she said softly.

"And may good fortune rule over you, my daughter. If I never return, the throne is yours." He bent down so that his eyes were level with hers. "Do not let anyone force you into doing something you do not wish to do, you are the heir to the elven throne and there is nothing that is above that title. Listen to your heart and do what it tells you to do," he closed his eyes readying himself for one last blessing.

"May you play an important role in freeing Alageasia and rebuilding the Riders," he said. He wrapped his arms around her, staying there for a while before walking into the shadows of the trees.

Arya sat on the ground, hugging her knees, she was alone.

High above her, Bladgen shrieked: "Wyrda!"

**OK, maybe the title didn't really fit, but couldn't think of anything else. anyway, its my favourite quote. Ignorance _is _really bliss.**

**Remember to review! thx...  
**


	3. Chapter 2: Dread

**Sorry, I was supposed to post this earlier but I was kinda busy. Never mind, my holidays have started! Hopefully now updates will be published faster. Thanks for the reviews.**

**Chapter 2 : Dread  
**

Arya woke to a feeling of dread. She did not sleep well the previous night. Her thoughts were full of worry for her father and she found it incredibly hard to slip into her waking dreams.

She looked out of her window. It was still dark and there was no sign of the sun yet. It was much earlier than her usual waking time. She lay back down on her bed, trying to catch a few more hours of rest. However, she was besieged by thoughts of war and again, the sanctuary of her waking dreams seemed to elude her.

She sighed and got out of bed. _I might as well get up and see if any news arrived this morning, _she thought. She picked out a plain white dress from her wardrobe; she was in no mood for wearing bright, happy colours.

Faolin was not waiting outside her room. _Of course, _she realized. _He comes much later everyday._ She sighed, it seemed like she had to face this alone, without her closest companion to look for reassurance.

Her mother's room was empty, so she headed to the throne room. The queen was not there either. _She must be in one of her meetings, _thought Arya. _She wouldn't be happy if I go barging in so I'll just wait in the gardens. _

Arya strolled through the gardens, loving every moment of it. Like all elves, Arya loved plants, but she loved flowers more than any other plant. Walking through the garden made her forget her worries.

During that short walk, she was a happy princess of three again and not the girl whose father was marching off to face an undefeatable opponent or the girl who had to take up her father's throne if he perished during the war. She skipped through the garden. The ignorant, younger Arya never walked, she skipped everywhere she went.

She sat down in her favourite bench, taking in the beautiful greenery. How long she sat there, she did not know and did not care to find out. She sat there, concentrating on her breathing as taught by her father. It helped to calm her when she was experiencing extreme emotions.

She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps approaching. She recognized the familiar rhythm of the steps and the swishing of the newcomer's clothes. It was Faolin.

"Princess," he greeted her, inclining his head. "Your mother sent me to look for you."

Arya's head jerked up in surprise. She stared him in the eyes. Faolin averted his eyes, she had a penetrating gaze and not many elves were able to hold her gaze for long. "Is there news? Already?" she asked hopefully.

"Nay, you mother wishes to speak with you in her private chambers," he replied. She looked at him with questioning eyes. "Now," he added.

Arya started walking briskly towards Tialdari Hall; she had enough experience to know that her mother despised dilly-dallying.

"Mother," she greeted in a soft voice as she entered her mother's room. Islanzadi was sitting on one of the many chairs in the room. She was surprised at the greeting. Arya never said anything softly. Arya took her place on the chair opposite her mother's.

"Arya," she sighed. "I do not like to talk about these things, but there are a few matters we must address should your father perish in the battle.

"Firstly, you, as his only heir should take up the mantle of the elves' monarch." Arya opened her mouth to protest but was cut of by her mother. "But you're too young. So for the time being, I will take your place as queen until you reach adulthood. Is that agreeable with you?"

Arya grinned. "You will be a much better queen than I. I wish for you to take my place as queen. Could you permanently replace me as queen? I never wanted to rule anyway."

Islanzadi frowned. "We will talk about this sometime else. Today you will begin new lessons." Arya looked up, excitement in her eyes. "You will start Literature, Art, Music and study the human tongue."

Arya's face showed plain disgust and disappointment. "When can I learn to use magic and fighting?" she asked.

"Hopefully, you'll never need these skills," replied Islanzadi. "Now, off to your lessons. I will see you during lunch."

Arya left, fuming. She realized that Islanzadi never gave a straight answer for her last question. _She's not going to let me be the person I want to be. She's planning on shaping me into a queen, not a warrior. _

. She arrived at her first lesson, which was the human language. A middle-aged elf called Grindeweld was waiting for her. He used to be the ambassador who dealt with the humans. As the lesson progressed, Arya found the human tongue crude. After three years of using the Liduen Kvaedhi, the human and dwarf runes seemed alien and it lacked the gracefulness of the Poetic Script.

She could not concentrate during her lessons; her mind was far off, worrying about her father and the army of elves who followed him. Deep down in her gut, she had a feeling that made her dread the news of the outcome of the battle.

**So how was it? Comments are welcome! Please review... it makes me happy, it lets you express your views and probably, i'll update faster when i'm happy. hehe. =]**


	4. Chapter 3: Reality

**Yay. Another chapter done! This one's kinda depressing if u ask me. Well, this IS the story of Arya's life and if you ask me, it is probably pretty depressing since she became so cold and emotionless.**

**Chapter 3 : Reality  
**

The following passed at a snail's pace. Arya strove to understand lessons, memorize new words from the human tongue and important dwarves from history. Everyday she would try to find out if any news of the army of elves arrived. Everyday more rumours arose that would double Arya's fear for her father's life.

Faolin began to notice changes in Arya's personality. She grew quieter, speaking in a soft voice and keeping her thoughts to herself, only voicing things she thought was important. She no longer skipped, she walked as if she had no energy to lift her feet more than a few inches above ground. She was no longer the carefree child and she hardly let a smile grace her lips.

Arya lay on her bed, fully awake. For the past few nights, she had had trouble sleeping. Often, she would wake up before dawn and not be able to sink back into sleep. Her mind was racing. Today, a runner had been sent from her father to tell them that the army had arrived at Illeria.

Evandar stood at the gates of Illeria. It had pained him to think that he would have to attack the city that he had grown up in, many decades ago. Above him, crows gathered, waiting for the inevitable bloodshed.

_With a sigh, King Evandar released a spell and the gates exploded, sending thousands of wooden splinters flying towards the human soldiers. Many shouts followed as the splinters embedded themselves in the bodies of the men. The rest of the men charged, shouting curses at the elves. _

And so it begins, _thought Evandar. He let a brief memory of Arya and Islanzadi pass through his thoughts. Deep down, he knew that he would never see them again. He nocked an arrow and aimed it towards the charging men. Arrows rained on the men, felling those in the front lines. _

_Evandar took a deep breath, unsheathing his magnificently crafted sword. _Here goes, may the stars watch over Arya and Islanzadi when I'm gone, _he thought. _

_Sword in one hand and a shield in the other, Evandar led his men as they charged to meet their enemies. _

Arya awoke with a start. Sweat covered her forehead and her heart was racing. She realized that she was panting as if she had run a mile.

It was still dark outside. Knowing that sleep would keep eluding her grasp, she got up. She grabbed a blank scroll and a pen. She sat down by the window and started writing. She wrote line after line, word after word, stopping only to dip her pen into the inkwell.

She sat there writing till the sun rose, bathing the trees of Du Weldenvarden in the faint light. When she finally ceased her writing, her hand was aching from the exertion, her heart beating wildly and her brow drenched with sweat.

She let out a breath, before her lay pages and pages of her writing. It was a short story that told of love, loss and grief. She had always enjoyed writing and her essays and short stories always captured the hearts of the readers but she had never written so much before. Her eyes scanned the pages, looking for mistakes.

A knock on her door brought her back to reality. She gasped, realizing that her nightgown was splattered with ink. Taking advantage of her inhuman speed, she changed into a black suit.

Waiting outside her room was one of the maids, sent by her mother. "Your mother requests you presence in her private quarters, Arya Drottningu," she said. Her tone of voice betrayed nothing, but Arya's stomach twisted with dread.

_Stop it, _she told herself. _It might be nothing. _But somehow she knew that the dream she had before and this unexpected call was no coincidence. The maid noticed the colour draining from Arya's face. She resisted the urge to hold the young princess in an embrace and reassure her. She knew that the princess would not appreciate this action.

The walk to her mother's chambers seemed to take longer than usual. Each step took all of Arya's willpower. Her instincts were screaming at her to turn around and run into the depths of the forests and never look back.

She stopped at the door. A stray thought entered her mind. Once she considered it, it seemed so true that it hardened into a certainty. _Once I open this door and enter the room, my life will never be the same again. _

She took a deep breath and tried in vain to conquer her fear and dread. Realizing she had failed to do so, she pushed open the door. Nothing had changed in the room since she had last visited yet she felt that there was something out of place. With a pang, she realized that the comfortable atmosphere was gone. Replacing it was the thick atmosphere of grief and loss.

She did not need to hear the words coming from Islanzadi's mouth to understand the situation: The battle was lost and her father was dead.

She grabbed the nearest object to stabilize herself. The room was spinning and all the breath was knocked out of her lungs. It was as if someone had physically punched her in the gut.

_No. This can't be true. He can't be gone. She's joking! _Her mind bellowed, refusing to accept the reality. She tried to stop the tears, but it was too late. They came spilling out of her emerald eyes.

Islanzadi, who had kept her bearing after hearing the news, felt her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter's grief. She took Arya in her arms and cradled her, holding her tightly, as if Arya, too would be lost to her if she let go.

Arya broke the embrace after a while. She ran, roughly pushing the door open. She could hear her mother's choking sobs ringing in her ear. She ran, trying to get away from the harsh reality. Her vision was obscured by the tears flowing freely from her eyes. She ran until she could hear nothing but her own sobbing. She tripped on a root. She got up and brushed the dirt off herself.

Suddenly exhausted, she sat under a tree, hugging her knees and burying her head in her arms. And there she sat, alone with only grief as her companion.

**And so the chapter ends. Was not easy to write, this one. Putting emotions into words is not easy. I would have died writing this chapter without personal experience in this department. Was listening to "My Immortal" by Evanescence and "Love Hurts" by Yiruma while writing. Music always helps. =]**

**Anyway, please, please review... i Really want to know what you think. The button is just below. Its big now isn't it?**


	5. Chapter 4: Requiem

**Another chapter. Here we go again... Nothing much to say, except it says a lot about music so those of you who don't learn music might not get some parts. =]**

**Chapter 4: Requiem  
**

Arya stood beside her mother. She was garbed in a black dress. An undecorated silver belt hung at her waist and a silver diadem of fine make graced her head. Her face was paler than usual, making the glow of her skin more profound. She carried a single white rose in her little hands.

Three days had passed since the news of Evandar's death arrived. They had waited for two reasons: to allow elves from other cities to journey to Ellesmera for the memorial service and to wait for the survivors of the battle to bring his body back.

Arya stood on a root of the Menoa Tree, looking down at the collection of people assembled. All the elves of Ellesmera had gathered, even Rhunon, who despised public gatherings. Many elves from the cities closer to Ellesmera were also there. In the midst of the crowd were the werecats Solembum and Maud. Rider Brom was also there. She studied his face, it was full of sorrow and grief. He had recently lost his dragon, Saphira, who was slain by Morzan.

The elves gathered did not try to hide their grief. Tears flowed freely from their eyes. Beside Arya, Islanzadi stiffened. Without needing to look at her mother, Arya knew that her lips would be pressed tightly together. This was how her mother always looked when she was trying not to cry.

One by one, the late king's advisors came forward and gave a short speech about Evandar. Then they walked to the casket and paid their last respects. After that, the others went to the casket and laid flowers on it.

Arya couldn't bear to see so much sadness in the eyes of her people. Tears slowly made their way down her face. She wrapped her arms around her mother, looking for comfort. Islanzadi sat on the root and held Arya in her arms, trying to ease her daughter's pain.

Faolin stepped out from the crowd and put his hand on Arya's shoulder to reassure her. Arya's body shook as she sobbed into her mother's shoulder. Between sobs, she repeated the same question over and over again, hoping to get an answer. "Why?" she asked.

Once everyone had paid their last respects to Evandar, Arya made her way to the coffin. She no longer sobbed but tears kept running down her cheeks. She laid the white rose she had been carrying on the coffin.

Again, she marveled at the peacefulness that graced Evandar's face. To her, it seemed like he was merely asleep, and if she called out his name, he would open his eyes and grin at her. "Father?" she whispered hopefully. No response came. Arya's hopeful expression fell from her face.

Arya began to sing in the Ancient Language. It was a song that told of grief and loss. Her soprano voice never strayed from the slow, minor tune. It was a beautiful, heart-breaking song composed by one of the most musically talented elves. A requiem. That was what her music teacher had called it.

Islanzadi's lower alto voice joined hers, acting as the accompaniment to Arya's melody. They kept singing till at last, they formed a perfect cadence at the end, holding the last note for a few seconds.

The next few hours were a blur for Arya, she was exhausted due to the lack of sleep and she found it hard to concentrate. Evandar was cremated and his ashes were to be scattered. His bones were put into an urn and kept in Islanzadi's room.

After that, Arya spent time in her room, alone, trying to get a grip on her emotions. _Be strong, _Faolin had told her. She took a deep breath, vowing to never let anyone see her cry again. _I will avenge my father's death,_ she thought. She began planning her future to suit her vows.

_I'll assist the Varden, but first, there is a matter I must attend to. With my mother._

The door to her mother's room flew open at her touch. Islanzadi started, she was not expecting anyone at this time.

"Mother, I _must _learn to use magic and fight," she said. Her tone was so hard and emotionless, it startled Islanzadi.

_No, she mustn't take the path of a warrior. I can't cope with another loss, _she thought. But another thought entered her head. _It will be better if she learnt to defend herself, I can always prevent her from doing anything dangerous and stupid. _

Defeated, she nodded. "I will arrange for someone to teach you," she said.

**It's a bit short by my standards but this is the only place I could stop. Or this chapter will drag on and on and on...**

**Please review. =) btw, thx to all who reviewed, i really appreciate it.  
**


	6. Chapter 5

**Took me longer than expected to write this chapter. Not much action, a lot of narration. I've plotted out the next few (about 7) chapters. unlikely of me, but... there are always first times... Here we go. oh yea, btw... couldn't find a suitable chapter name.**

**Chapter 5  
**

The next few days were the hardest and longest of Arya's life. She would avoid discussing any topic that would remind her of her father. However, sometimes she or someone else would slip and mention something that would bring back painful memories. At these times, Faolin would always be there to comfort her.

Rhunon peered at Arya. "So you want me to forge a blade for you?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

Arya nodded, preferring to keep silent. Rhunon frowned. "As you still have not reached the fully grown stage, I will have to make you several swords for each stage of growth you experience.

"As you know, I am about to take on a vow to never forge a weapon of death again so I will need to forge your swords now. As a result, your full-length sword might not be the right length for you. I will try my best to estimate, though."

Arya took in the information quietly. Her mother had refused to let her have a sword forged by any other smith. Rhunon was the best and as princess of Ellesmera, Arya had to have the best.

It took Rhunon several days to forge the swords for she refused to use magic. _Perhaps that is why her swords are always the best among the elven smiths, _Arya mused.

She made her way to Rhunon's house near the edge of Ellesmera. Her heart was beating quicker than usual and she tried with little success to hide her excitement with a calm façade.

Rhunon was already waiting for her. Arya doubled her pace and was cradling her new sword in no time.

It was a double-bladed straight sword. The hilt was long enough for her to hold it with two hands. It was made of Brightsteel, one of Rhunon's last few pieces. The blade was silver and a hint of green could be seen nearer the crossguard. It was a magnificently crafted sword and Arya treasured it above all her belongings.

Her training began immediately after receiving her sword. She was taught the Rimgar, sword fighting, archery and grammarye. She was also trained to fight weaponless.

These new lessons helped to distract Arya from her grief. They also left her so exhausted at the end of the day that she sank into sleep without difficulty at bedtime.

Islanzadi's coronation was held a month after the funeral. It was not as grand and elaborate as her predecessors'. She had wanted it that way. It felt wrong to have celebrations so soon after her mate's death.

Arya stood on her mother's right side. She knew her mother well enough to know that she was nervous even though the new queen hid it well. Islanzadi recited the twelve vows of an elven monarch, her voice steady and strong.

She then ascended the steps leading to the throne and knelt in front of it. She was crowned by Rider Brom, who had helped with a few of Arya's sword fighting and magic lessons. He was an amazing sword fighter but he did not possess the strength and speed of the elves.

--

Sounds of metal hitting metal could be hear from afar as sword met sword on the training field. The elves were a stunning display to any outsider but it was the two combatants in the center of the field who caught the attention of any passers-by.

A girl of six was dueling with a man two decades her senior. But of course this girl was no ordinary girl, she was Arya Drottningu, Princess of Ellesmera and her opponent was none other than Faolin, her closest companion.

Both combatants showed incredible sword fighting techniques but it was obvious that Faolin had the upper hand. Slowly but steadily, he drove Arya backwards and with a flick of his sword, he disarmed her.

She stumbled and fell hard, hitting her head. Everyone seemed to sway and she fought to stay conscious. The onlookers were oblivious to her internal struggle, they did not know that she had hit her head harder than they thought. Tears formed at the back of her eyelids.

Suddenly, she was besieged by a memory of her late father. He was walking beside Arya, his features lightened by a smile.

The memory changed. Evandar did not point at the nearest flower and teach Arya the name like he did four years ago. Instead, he looked at her, smile falling from his lips. He looked into her eyes.

"Don't show your weakness. It will give your enemies a hold over you. Keep them to yourself and hide them well,"

The vision faded. Arya frowned, she could not explain the vision. It was not a memory – he had never told her this before. _His word held wisdom though, _she thought.

_I will, Father, _she said silently.

**Well, i can't really explain the memory that wasn't a memory. it was something like in New Moon, where Bella would keep seeing Edward in her mind, telling her not to do stuff. Anyway, this is supposed to explain why she is like a Mary Sue in the books. Because she hides her vulnerabilities and fears and well, weaknesses from others. **

**Well, gotta stop blabbing... please review. don't make me beg, cause I don't think I'll stoop that low. (:  
**


	7. Chapter 6: Hope

**Finally another update. I don't have my Brisingr with me now, so there might be some mistakes with the Ancient Language or the elves' customs... this chapter is set about 10 years after the funeral...**

**Chapter 6 : Hope  
**

As the years passed, the pain of losing her father diminished slowly and gradually. It never disappeared, but instead of the crippling pain it was reduced to a bearable level by Arya's thirteenth year.

Arya frowned, trying to relax. She was in the midst of the third level of Rimgar and it was taking all of her concentration and willpower just to hold her position.

A sound she remembered from her younger days caused her concentration to falter. The next thing she knew, she was facedown on the ground. She was shocked, she never expected to hear that sound ever again. It was the sound of a dragon's wings beating.

Dread filled her mind. _No, Galbatorix can't have found out the location of Ellesmera, _she thought with a sinking feeling.

Thud.

Thud.

The sound was getting louder, whoever it was, they were alone and were approaching Ellesmera. _Gildrien the Wise wouldn't have allowed Galbatorix to pass, _she thought. _But what chances does a single elf stand against a twisted Rider and his dragon?_

The sound was deafening. Arya covered her ears, wishing it would stop. There were many advantages of having heightened senses, but it came with certain disadvantages too. She headed towards the sound, hands still covering her ears in a vain attempt to make the sound a little more bearable.

The sound kept getting louder until Arya thought her eardrums would burst. All of a sudden, the sound of the wing beats ceased, only to be replaced by the sound of a dragon landing with much grace.

Arya stared at the dragon in wonder. It was a beautiful creature – one she had not seen since her first few years. With a sense of relief, she realized it was not Galbatorix or any of the Wryfell.

The dragon was resting. Climbing down from his saddle was his Rider, Oromis. Arya never dreamed of seeing him again, she thought he was lost when he was captured by Kialandi of the Wrydfell.

Her lips curved in a smile, a rare display of emotion for the young princess. The other elves danced and sang with joy when they recognized the Rider and his golden dragon Glaedr.

Arya saw her mother enter the clearing. Her eyes betrayed her emotions for a split second. The Queen hid her emotions under a neutral mask.

Arya shook her head, her mother was the best at hiding her emotions. She never showed weakness although Arya had found her mother crying her heart out when she thought no one was there a few times.

She went and stood at her mother's side. She knew that this was the only was to gain the information she craved as her mother would not normally reveal information like this to her.

After they exchanged the traditional elven greetings, they walked towards the more secluded areas of Du Weldenvarden while Oromis tried to fend off the excited elves.

When they arrived at a secluded area, Islanzadi shot Oromis a questioning look. Oromis sighed and prepared himself for the long explanation that lay ahead. He sat on the trunk of a fallen tree.

"As you all know, I was captured by three of the Wyrdfell many years ago. Kialandi was charged by the traitor Galbatorix to find out everything about Ellesmera, the elves and the Ancient Language."

He did not describe his imprisonment and moved straight on with his narration. "We waited for a chance of escape. Finally, it came. Morzan came to visit Kialandi and discuss some mission Galbatorix was putting together.

"Kialandi never let any of his servants near us. We had no contact with any other than him or Morzan. But in his hurry to greet Morzan, he forgot to feed Glaedr. Even in his twisted state of mind, Kialandi still had some respect for dragons so he sent a servant with Glaedr's food.

"We immediately recognized the chance. Although we were weak mentally and physically, we managed to break the servant's mental barriers and through him, we unlocked the door and took my sword. Before we left, we used his true name and instructed him to kill Kialandi.

"We're not sure it will work but it was worth a try. Since then we have flown from Dras-Leona to Du Weldenvarden. It took us longer than usual because of our diminished strength. Our journey was uneventful and now we have arrived."

Arya held out her waterskin of Faelnirv. It was not augmented with any enchantments but she knew it would help restore some of Oromis's strength. Oromis gratefully sipped the drink.

They had a feast that night to celebrate Oromis and Glaedr's safe return. The elves danced and sang with a joy Arya had never seen before. Elves crowded around Oromis and Glaedr to ask them questions.

Arya and Islanzadi were the only ones still seated. When she was sure no one was eavesdropping, Arya whispered into Queen Islanzadi's ear: "One day, I will avenge my father and the dragons."

She knew that her mother would not approve of her decision. She was right, her mother immediately began lecturing her about her responsibility as the heir to the throne.

Arya sighed. She knew this would lead to many disagreements with her mother in the future.

**So... like it? Oromis is back. Finally. And Arya isn't so emo anymore. lol. Review... pls??? c(:**


	8. Chapter 7: Illusion

**o.O I'M BACK! lol. after so long, it's weird writing again. i hope i haven't gone rusty... anyway, i hope you'll enjoy this, nothing really CRUCIAL but it's a STORY and they tend to have not-so-important parts sometimes. also, i hope you'll still like it as my style might have changed a little. **

**Chapter 7: Illusion**

Arya focused on her target: the pad placed a distance away. It was placed further than any of other the pads she had used for archery yet by the elves' standard, it was an easy target. Beyond that, the sun had just begun to rise.

Drawing an arrow, she took aim. Taking a deep breath, she let go of the bowstring. Her eyes followed the arrow's progress. A silent curse escaped her lips as the arrow missed the target by a hair's breadth.

She reached for another arrow, nocking it faster than a human eye could follow. And so she stood there for hours, perfecting her skills in archery, while Aiedail watched her from the high heavens.

Hours later, Arya ignored the hunger gnawing at her stomach and nocked another arrow. Taking aim, she let it loose…

Only to see it miss the target once again. She sighed in frustration. At the age of seventeen, her skills with the bow far surpassed the average young elf. However, it still was not as good as an adult elf. Refusing to accept the fact, she had risen early every morning to try to perfect her skills.

She was just about to draw another arrow when she felt a familiar presence. She smiled as Faolin walked up to her, an arrow in his hand.

"I think this belongs to you, My Lady," he said, putting emphasis on the words _My Lady _and bowing mockingly as he handed her the arrow. She scowled. Faolin grinned at her. She decided to ignore it and took aim once again.

"You should get something to eat," he said softly. Without taking her eyes off the target, she shook her head.

Sighing, he bent down and watched her release arrow after arrow. He frowned and touched her arm lightly, causing it to move slightly. As he did so, Arya loosed the arrow. Instead of missing the target like the shots before, the arrow buried itself in the middle of the pad.

She glared at him, envying his effortless skill at archery. "Come on," he beckoned. "Let's go get something to eat. Then, I'll help you with this," he said, gesturing towards the target.

* * *

Arya dove into the water, feeling its coolness on her skin. She smiled at Faolin, silently thanking him for convincing her to take a break from her never ending lessons and training sessions.

She started doing a breaststroke, trying to catch up with the other elf who was leaving her far behind. Faolin was a brilliant swimmer and he, unlike her, had been swimming regularly. Arya admitted to herself that she was out of practice.

They swam for hours, Arya was enjoying the exercise and how powerful her muscles felt after all the training. But no matter how hard she pushed herself, she could not catch up with Faolin.

She finally gave up trying to out swim him and adopted a leisurely pace. She swam underwater for a while. Just when her lungs felt like they were bursting, she surfaced. Drawing in a deep breath, she surveyed her surroundings. Faolin had left her behind. The only sign of his presence was the soft splashes of water that were gradually fading away as he gained distance.

Arya surveyed her surroundings and was surprised to find that she was not alone. In the water a few feet away was an elf. His hair shone in the sunlight and he was facing a little girl with hair like midnight who was standing on dry land, staring at the water.

Arya stared at the elf. There was something familiar about him. A few possibilities presented themselves, each more unlikely than the last. Just as she was about to give up and swim away, the elf turned to face her. The face she saw caused her mind to spin as she stared in disbelief at the elf.

"Father?" The word felt so foreign on her lips as she had not uttered for more than a decade. The elf didn't seem to hear but a small smile touched his lips for a brief moment before he turned towards the younger elf.

"Come on, Arya," he pleaded. Arya stared in confusion, but the elf didn't seem to be talking to her. He reached out for the younger elf on the shore and she grasped it tightly.

"Come on, the waiter's fine," he said. The younger elf took a few tentative steps towards the lake but stopped at the edge. By his posture, Arya could tell that the elf was running out of patience.

"Conquer your fears, Arya! It is only in your mind. Don't let your actions be dictated by it," he chided.

The young elf squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and stepped into the water. She smiled as she realized that she had nothing to fear. Arya found herself smiling as she surveyed the scene. She let her mind wander as she watched the elf learn to float in water.

"Arya!" The call brought her back from her musings.

"Fa- Faolin!" She corrected herself just in time as she recognized the voice.

"I got worried when you didn't follow me," he explained.

Arya nodded, she understood his concern. She looked around for the two elves but they were gone was no sign of their presence. It was as if they were never there.

She frowned. "I was just catching my breath," she told Faolin, still searching for any sign of the two elves. Disappointed, she said: "Come on, I'm tired of swimming. Let's go."

When she reached the shore, she noticed only two sets of footprints, hers and Faolin's. No sign of the little elf with black hair.

**is it just me or is she going mad? kidding. OMG. do you think it's very New Moon?**

**anyway, i promise next chapter will be more interesting than this. i personally think this chapter was quite... boring. but i wanted to put it in because it would be WEIRD if i suddenly skipped a couple of decades in her life. **

**anyway, tell me what you think. the review button is there * points downwards* =)**


	9. Chapter 8

**finally finished with another chapter... now working on the next one, hopefully it will be up soon. **

**Rereading Brisingr now and I can't wait to do the inheritance cycle in her POV. it would be SO cool! :)**

**Chapter 8**

Arya got up, brushing the dust off her tunic and rubbing her numerous bruises. "Again," she said as she picked up her sword. Elina, her sparring partner opened her mouth to object but decided against it. Arguing with Arya was a useless cause, the elf princess always won.

Both elves crouched, ready to counter the other's attack. It was Arya who made the first move, lunging at Elina with her sword held high. Elina blocked her attack with ease. She then began a series of counter-attacks, moving as gracefully as a dancer.

Sweat beaded Arya's forehead as she struggled to block each attack. To any onlooker, it was obvious that Elina had the upper hand, being both older and more experienced in swordsmanship. However, at the age of seventeen, Arya still possessed the superior strength of an elf child.

They stayed locked in the battle, neither side willing to give in. Finally, with a flickr of her wrist, Elina sent Arya's sword flying out of her hand. Before Arya could react, she felt the cold blade of her opponent's sword on her neck. She sighed and picked up her sword.

"Again," she said.

Under an ancient pine stood Brom, the last human Rider outside the Forsworn. He stood patiently under the tree, watching the two elves battle, noting their strengths and weaknesses. He smiled as he watched Arya being defeated time and time again, only to get up and start again. When all others wondered why she kept trying, he understood.

"And may peace live in your heart, Islanzadi Drottning," Brom said, completing the traditional greetings.

"How fares the Varden, Rider Brom?" asked the queen. Arya sat down in a chair in her mother's study, preparing herself for a long and boring report on the Varden.

Shur'tugal Brom, who was also the founder and leader of the Varden then launched into a detailed report on the Varden's doings since its creation. Their numbers have grown from a handful of exiles to a group of a thousand men. So far, they have been met with little success, but Brom seemed confident that they would eventually be able to topple the empire.

Arya was barely able to conceal her boredom when Rider Brom and her mother discussed the Varden's shortage of bowstrings and how to overcome it. They then discussed how the queen of the elves could aid their cause and whether or not it was possible to obtain the dwarves' help.

After many long minutes on that subject, the conversation took a more interesting turn. Rider Brom began talking about his plans for the future.

"It seems that at least three of the Wrydfell have been driven insane since Du Namar Aurboda," he said. "I don't think the dragons are even capable of speech anymore," he said. Apparently, The Banishing of Names had a bigger impact on the Wrydfell's dragons than just removing the names of the dragons.

Brom talked about plans of raids, assassinations and other such activities to cripple the empire. There was a strange light burning in his eyes when he addressed the topic of assassinating the members of the Forsworn.

It was several hours before Brom excused himself and returned to his rooms in Tialdari Hall.

"Arya."

Arya froze at the doorframe. She turned back and shut the door, returning to her seat.

"You are the next in line to the knotted throne," said the queen. Before Arya could point out that she would not be expected to take the throne if she did not wish to, her mother continued, "And as a monarch, you will be expected to know the different customs of the races of Alagaesia, not only the elves' as well as certain things such as how to negotiate a treaty and to hold your own in a debate.

"Therefore, beginning tomorrow, you shall have extra lessons on the culture and practices of humans, dwarves, and Urgals. In addition, you are expected to be present for certain meetings and discussions such as this one with Rider Brom."

Arya nodded, knowing better than to argue with her mother. Although she disliked the prospect of sitting through many a meeting, she knew that she needed experience in such things if she planned on becoming the elven ambassador to the Varden.

She returned to her rooms, thinking of her future. _Mother will not like my idea of becoming an ambassador, but I shall have my way. No matter what she says, I will have the yawe tattooed on my shoulder_, she thought with conviction.

**oh well, i promise it gets more interesting next chapter... **

**review please. :)**


	10. Chapter 9

**I'm aware that it's been... two years since I last updated, and I'm really sorry for that.**

**I hope that: a)you guys haven't given up on this, b)you like it, c) I haven't gone rusty. **

**Here goes:**

"And that is how we sing to trees to make them grow," concluded Faolin.

_I never thought it was this easy_, thought Arya. It was just like reciting a spell over and over again.

"You should try it sometime, although it will take a while before you are able to create a true masterpiece," said Faolin. Arya nodded, thinking of the miniature trees grown in the shape of glyphs that adorned her mother's room.

_Strength_, she thought. I _will do strength. Wisdom too._

… _and peace._ These three things meant the most to her and she resolved to sing her trees into those three glyphs.

Arya closed the screen door of her room. Taking out a blank slate, she concentrated on the image of the elf she had known since her younger days. As she spoke the words of the spell, the gray tablet was alighted with colour. She beheld her work with pride. It was flawless, and she smiled to herself, thinking of the many times she had tried and failed to capture the image of him perfectly.

She contemplated hanging it on her wall, beside the fairth of her father, but decided against it. There, it would be too exposed and anyone entering her room could clearly see what she thought of him.

Handling it carefully, she deposited the fairth of Faolin in a chest at the corner of her room, where no one but her would find it.

It was almost nightfall. Below the trees of Du Weldenvarden, the elves retreated into their homes for their dinner. Two elves strolled side by side, one with fair hair that reflected the dying rays of the sun and the other with contrasting midnight black hair.

To any onlooker, they appeared to be lovers taking in the wonders of the gardens of Tialdari Hall. However, any elf residing in Ellesmera would know better than to point that out, for the "couple" in question was none other than the Princess of Ellesmera and her guardian.

They walked in silence, which was not uncommon for Arya. Faolin could feel her aching to say something, but kept up the silence as she gathered her thoughts. She didn't quite know how to begin and just how much she should reveal as there were many things that she had held back. From wanting to join the Varden to just... _him_.

Finally, she sat. Looking up at him, she began: "Faolin, I..." She broke eye contact. _Love you_, she thought. "I plan to join the Varden," she blurted, cursing herself for being too cowardly to tell him how she felt.

Had she been looking up, she would have noticed the small action of his shoulders sagging in disappointment. He nodded absently, not saying anything. They sat there for a while, lost in their thoughts.

"Faolin?" she asked tentatively. "You haven't said anything, I know it's a lot to take in so quickly, but..." she rambled nervously, afraid to hear his reaction. Once, not so long ago, she would have been able to share this information without any anxiety whatsoever, but something had changed between them in the past few months. Faolin had felt it too, they had drifted apart. He also knew that when the twenty year old princess talked, she sometimes held something back.

Maybe now was the time to bridge that distance between them. Bending down so they were eye-to-eye, he silenced her by grasping her hand. She looked him in disbelief and... hope? Her pulse quickened, and she had no doubt that the other elf would feel it too. Thoughts were spinning around her head now, making it impossible for her to think clearly. Hopes and half-buried dreams stirred and though she wanted to look away, she was transfixed by his eyes.

"Arya, I..."

"Love you," he finished, just as she projected the same words at him. They smiled and continued staring in wonder at each other, as if meeting for the first time. They sat there, not speaking, just enjoying each others' company as the sun descended.

They both were unaware of the presence of the Queen, who had unknowingly walked into the scene. Her face betrayed nothing, and as she turned to leave, she caught sight of a white form perched atop a tree. For once, he was quiet, she observed.

A frown crossed her face, but she pushed aside grim thoughts of why Bladgen had not been screaming "Wyrda!" above their heads. Surely the both of them were meant to be?

**It's really short, I know and not quite the interesting chapter I had planned, but I decided that this must come first. The Arya/Faolin thing isn't written very well as romance isn't quite my forte :D**

**Oh, and let me share a little secret with you: the reason I started writing again is because I was inspired by the reviews, so... *hint***

**Lastly, the "n" key on my keyboard has died so if I fail to insert my "n"s at some places, please forgive me. **


	11. Chapter 10

**OK, finally I can update. :D Had a problem with editing my stories recently. **

**Anyway, this reply is for Rheya: Thanks! and, yes I've been skipping scenes because it's quite impossible to not skip, she's 100 years old! I'm not even sure where I'll end this, either at Gil'ead or maybe I'll continue into the series, if I have time. IF I get there, I'll probably stop skipping scenes like this and cover everything she's in or what she's doing, in the event she's separated from Eragon, unless it gets too boring. **

**I think my chapters are getting shorter... :( I'll try to lengthen it. Next time. And now, I should stop being so long-winded. **

**

* * *

**

** Chapter 11**

The door slammed, punctuating the soft whispers of waiting elves. Arya stalked out and made her way to her room, ignoring their stares.

_She's impossible! She's so stubborn! And paranoid. And... _she could go on forever. For years, she had been pestering her mother to allow her to aid the Varden to no avail. Her mother was stubborn as a dwarf when it came to this matter. Thirty years was young, Arya knew, but she simply couldn't stand just strolling around Ellesmera while others gave their lives to bring down the Empire.

Faolin felt this too, they had talked about it before, but he didn't agree that helping the Varden was the solution. He was content to sit around and guess at the Black King's true name, which Arya thought was more futile than fighting a one-on-one combat with the king himself.

_A storm of arrows flew in our direction. I ducked under my shield. This was madness. Above, the last of the dragons and their Riders clash with the members of the Wrydfell, crashing with a bone-jarring impact. It pains me to see the world like this. A few years ago, everything was fine. The land was at peace. The dragons flourished. The Riders kept peace. _

_Now everything was torn apart by a single madman. _

_Sighing, I raised my sword and charged yet another terrified human, ending his life as easily as I would swat a fly. We were losing, that much was obvious. Galbatorix had the advantage of dragons and numbers that could overcome us elves. Desperately, I looked around for some way to turn the tables. _

_There. A Rider – one of the Wyrdfell – and his dragon were distracted by Brom. I snuck up on them, knowing that it was underhand, but not really caring. The Rider fell under my blow, and his dragon roared in agony. _

_I nodded at Brom, and noticed a look of absolute horror wash over him. There was a rush f air and before I could react, something crashed into my armour with incredible force. I was thrown off my feet and pinned down by the object. _

_My vision was fading. At that moment, I knew two things: the dragon had crushed my armour with its tail and I would not live. _

_Brom was rushing to my side, but there was nothing he could do. I closed my eyes as a feeling of peacefulness crept over me. _

Sweat drenched her brow as Arya woke. She stared at the fairth of her father. That dream, again. It was as if her dreams were mocking her for not being able join the resistance.

She got out of bed and slipped on a green tunic, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Brom would be arriving today, and she could use the few hours between now and dawn to think of ways to convince him to let her join the Varden.

Arya hurried after Brom as he exited Tialdari Hall. He had just finished a discussion about the elves' support of the Varden with the queen that she had to sit through. She didn't mind attending such meetings anymore, for things like how her mother and Brom would negotiate some seemingly useless terms to try and get the upper hand intrigued her.

During the meeting, she had come up with an idea of how she would be able to assist the Varden. Currently, every time the Varden wanted to implement certain changes or required the elves' assistance, Brom would be forced to travel all the way from Farthen Dur to Ellesmera, for no other human was permitted to enter the city. It was a troublesom arrangement as Brom had the endurance of a human and for obvious reasons, was no longer able to travel on dragonback. Therefore, travelling between these two places could take weeks and every second Brom was awa from the Varden was another second he would have to worry about disputes among members, attacks from Galbatorix and other matters.

However, she could help by becoming the first ever elven ambassador to her mother. With her superior speed and strength, she would take much less time travelling. Also, as the queen's daughter, she would be able to make all but the most important decisions and save Brom the trouble of having ti leave Farthen Dur. She smiled at her logic, knowing that Brom wouldn't be able to reject her offer.

"Brom?" she called, eager to start the negotiation.

* * *

**That third from last paragraph was so long! I hope I'm not repeating myself too much in there, or stating the obvious, I'm just trying to make sure you guys get it :D**

**So I guess she'll be going to the Varden soon :DDD (finally) ((I hope I can come up with interesting stuff during her time as an ambassador))**

**And crap, I can't write romance scenes and there'll definitely have to be some Arya/Faolin parts to do... O.O**

**Well, ignore that, I'll get to that when I get to that. Remember, please review (as always)**


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